


Poetry

by deird1



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Correspondence, Gen, season: b7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-07
Updated: 2009-12-07
Packaged: 2017-10-04 05:49:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deird1/pseuds/deird1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Revello Drive has a noticeboard...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poetry

* * *

**~~Notices  
Complaints  
Notices  
The Giant Noticeboard of DOOM~~  
The Big Board of Poetry**

(Yet another name change?  
How very strange!)

Announcement: In honor of National Poetry Month, all submissions to this board must now be done in POEM FORM.  
Obey this new rule – 'cause it's just that cool.

By order of The Great Xander (chief morale officer, bringer of snacks, and general punching bag)

* * *

Has anybody seen my hat?  
I really need to find it – stat.

* * *

Movies!

Tonight, on T.V.  
At 8 will we see  
Star Wars, and then some Bugs Bunny  
So don't make a fuss  
Come downstairs and join us!  
It'll be really exciting and funny

* * *

Roses are red  
Violets are blue  
California is hot  
And so are you

* * *

whoever's doing the next shopping run, we need more toilet paper  
– Buffy

 

(The Great Xander disapproves of the lack of poetry in this submission. Please amend this error immediately.)

* * *

There once was a vampire named Spike  
Who tried to ride on a bike  
But he soon was unnerved  
The bike swivelled and swerved  
And so he decided to hike

* * *

Roses are red  
Violets are blue  
If Buffy gets a rocket launcher  
I want one too

* * *

training begins at 6pm this evening – don't be late  
– Buffy

 

(Still not good enough, Buff. The Great Xander is seriously displeased.)

* * *

twenty-fourth in line  
for the shower  
a hallway full  
of shuffling feet  
impatient sighs  
towel-filled hands  
minor scuffles  
then  
finally  
it is my turn  
I step inside  
triumphant  
wipe the steam-covered mirror  
towel on the door  
clothes on the floor  
a long relaxing soak  
but  
the hot water's already gone  
and the next in line is hammering on the door

* * *

Yummy to drink, and white as silk:  
Someone needs to buy more milk  
– Buffy

(happy, Xan?)

* * *

A Haiku:

stakes are good weapons  
classic, simple, hand-to-hand  
crossbows? much better

* * *

One day, when we leave this town  
Buy a house and settle down  
We'll look back on these days, and recall  
How wonderful we thought it all

But today, we think it loud,  
Far too busy, too big a crowd,  
Too much noise – we have to shout  
We really just want to get out

But when at last we move away  
And look back fondly on this day  
We'll remember heaven instead of hell  
…and won't remember the really gross smell

* * *

Roses are red  
Violets are blue  
Vampires are scary  
But we are too

* * *

Roses are red  
Violets are blue  
Give me some Kleenex  
I've got the flu

 

(Roses are boring  
Violets are too  
Write any more of these  
And I'm going to sue  
– T.G.X.)

* * *

Sword drills, fake kills  
Seven times a day  
"When do we get a REAL fight?"  
The new Potentials say

Sword slicing, death dicing  
All too much to ask  
"Back to relaxing sword drills?"  
The old Potentials bask

* * *

To whoever stole my REALLY EXPENSIVE shampoo:

When I get a hold of you  
I'm going to punch you black and blue  
Kick your shins, pull your hair  
Fix you with an icy stare  
Steal your clothes, burn your money  
Fill your sleeping bag with honey  
Pelt you with big clumps of mud  
Get vampires to suck your blood  
And then I will assault your ears  
By making you listen to Britney Spears  
If you wish to avoid this fate  
Then never fear – it's not too late  
The only thing you have to do  
Is give me back my damn shampoo

* * *

Tonight we'll practise throwing knives,  
Kicking ass and saving lives  
It starts at six – don't be late  
It's going to be really really great

– Buffy, poet extraordinaire

* * *

  
Roses are sad  
And violets regretful  
Call us boring again  
And we're coming to get you

* * *

Willow the witch  
is still biding her time  
Working her way  
to completing a rhyme  
Wondering if  
her poem will be done  
Before the rest of us  
get sick of this fun

Katy and Steph  
have been writing for ages  
The floor is increasingly  
covered with pages  
And yet they still seem  
to be having no luck  
Their poem's unwritten  
They're both terribly stuck

Young Dawn, meanwhile  
is researching Sumerian  
She won't write in English  
(or even Hungarian)  
Instead she painstakingly  
composes her thoughts  
In a language of which  
we can understand nought

All strive for verboseness  
– yet all are laconic  
I must say,  
I do find it strangely ironic  
This challenge  
with which we are utterly smitten  
takes up all of our time  
…and still nothing gets written!


End file.
